Giant Hours with Poet Preachers

by William L. Stidger

CHILDHOOD AND ITS GLORY

Noyes assumes something that we all know for truth: that "Grown-ups do not understand" childhood. But after reading this sweet poet we know that he does understand; and we thank God for him. In Part II of "The Forest of Wild Thyme" one sees this clearly.

"O, grown-ups cannot understand,
And grown-ups never will,
How short's the way to fairyland
Across the purple hill:
They smile: their smile is very bland,
Their eyes are wise and chill;
And yet—at just a child's command—
The world's an Eden still."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

Thank the stars that watch over us in love that the great-hearted poets, and the children of the world—at least those little ones that a half-way Christian civilization has not robbed of childhood—know that "The world's an Eden still."

From the prelude to "The Flower of Old Japan" comes that same note, like a bluebird in springtime, that note of belief, of trust, of hope:

"Do you remember the blue stream;
The bridge of pale bamboo;
The path that seemed a twisted dream
Where everything came true;
The purple cheery-trees; the house
With jutting eaves below the boughs;
The mandarins in blue,
With tiny tapping, tilted toes,
With curious curved mustachios?

* * * * *

"Ah, let us follow, follow far
Beyond the purple seas;
Beyond the rosy foaming bar,
The coral reef, the trees,
The land of parrots and the wild
That rolls before the fearless child
In ancient mysteries:
Onward, and onward if we can,
To Old Japan, to Old Japan."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And "The Forest of Wild Thyme" is full of the echos of fairy tales and childhood rhymes heard the world over. Little Peterkin, who went with the children to "Old Japan," is dead now:

"Come, my brother pirates, I am tired of play;
Come and look for Peterkin, little brother Peterkin,
Our merry little comrade that the fairies took away."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And so, they go to the last place they saw him, the old God's Acre, and fall asleep amid the wild thyme blooming there. As they dream the thyme grows to the size of trees, and they wander about in the forest hunting for Peterkin.

As they hunted they found out who killed Cock Robin. They appeal to
Little Boy Blue to help them hunt for Peterkin:

"Little Boy Blue, you are gallant and brave,
There was never a doubt in those clear, bright eyes.
Come, challenge the grim, dark Gates of the Grave
As the skylark sings to those infinite skies!"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

The King of Fairyland gives command to Pease-Blossom:

"And cried, Pease-blossom, Mustard-Seed! You know the old command;
Well; these are little children; you must lead them on to Peterkin!"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

They even discovered, as they were led on by Pease-Blossom and Mustard-
Seed, how fairies were born:

"Men upon earth
Bring us to birth
Gently at even and morn!
When as brother and brother
They greet one another
And smile—then a fairy is born!"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And, too, they found why fairies die:

"But at each cruel word
Upon earth that is heard,
Each deed of unkindness or hate,
Some fairy must pass
From the games in the grass
And steal through the terrible Gate."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And they learned what it took to make a rose:

"'What is there hid in the heart of a rose,
Mother-mine?'
'Ah, who knows, who knows, who knows?
A man that died on a lonely hill
May tell you perhaps, but none other will,
Little child.'

"'What does it take to make a rose,
Mother-mine?'
'The God that died to make it knows.
It takes the world's eternal wars,
It takes the moon and all the stars,
It takes the might of heaven and hell
And the everlasting Love as well,
Little child.'"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And they heard the old tales over:

"And 'See-Saw; Margery Daw,' we heard a rollicking shout,
As the swing boats hurtled over our heads to the tune of the
roundabout;
And 'Little Boy Blue, come blow up your horn,' we heard the showmen
cry,
And 'Dickery Dock, I'm as good as a clock,' we heard the swings
reply."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

Then at last they found their little brother Peterkin in "The Babe of
Bethlehem."

And if this were not enough to make the reader see how completely and wholly and sympathetically Noyes understood the child heart, hear this word from his great soul:

"Kind little eyes that I love,
Eyes forgetful of mine,
In a dream I am bending above
Your sleep and you open and shine;
And I know as my own grow blind
With a lonely prayer for your sake,
He will hear—even me—little eyes that were kind,
God bless you, asleep or awake!"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.